—But there are tortures which thou canst not shun:
The spirit is their prey—thy pangs are but begun!
LXXXVII.
Oh, happy in their homes, the noble dead!
The seal is set on their majestic fame;
Earth has drunk deep the generous blood they shed,
Fate has no power to dim their stainless name!
They may not, in one bitter moment, shame
Long glorious years. From many a lofty stem
Fall graceful flowers, and eagle hearts grow tame,